


Vagrants of the Future

by bipalium



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipalium/pseuds/bipalium
Summary: What really matters in the ruined world? muses Munakata, not sure whether he has said it out loud or thought to himself.“I dunno,” yawns Juzo. “Maybe it’s what’s left for us. It’s not like you can’t rebuild what was destroyed.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all the characters are 21 years old or older

“For me? Shit, Kyosuke...”

Munakata smiles weakly at him, content with Juzo’s a-little-embarrassed expression while he stares at the small velvet box in his hand.

“It’s kind of vulgar to give a ring to a man, so to sustain your dignity I have picked the most humble one,” muses Munakata, rubbing his chin. “But if you don’t like it–”

A fierce kiss is smashed against Munakata’s mouth and he chuckles with relief. Juzo’s hand clutches onto his side, crushing him in a strong and affectionate embrace.

 

**~***~**

 

He was grateful for what was left for him. Only some few months had passed, and the final killing game felt like a horrible nightmare he’d awoken from, living a coy and simple life of a wanderer.

At first, Munakata roamed aimlessly in a sheer need to forget. Deeds done, prices paid; he did not expect one day to be shaken awake by a far too familiar hand.

It was raining outside, and in a poor lodge of a reviving after the great despair village, Munakata shivered of cold. The touch on his bare shoulder was warming, soothing even; a gentle dream Munakata did not quite want to end.

“Munakata,” a familiar low voice called. But it did every night. Sakakura’s soft eyes and his ever-present frown, and then blood on his face, blood everywhere; his arms, his strong neck, his smile; Munakata had been seeing enough of that under his closed eyelids, each morning waking up to the harsh reality. Juzo’s voice was often followed by a higher and more cheerful one, but it always died out as quickly.

Shrinking beneath the thin, itchy blanket, Munakata was shaken rougher and snapped his healthy eye open.

Words were not needed. It took him a moment or two to distinguish dream from reality, and this time the truth overwhelmed him. Speechless, with hot tears gathering in his eyes, he wrapped his arms around the startled Juzo, who mumbled something about how Munakata didn’t need to cry and how everything was alright; but Munakata could not. Desperately gripping into Juzo’s enormous, scruffy coat, he forgot himself in a brief fit of happiness. He spoke but could not distinguish his own words; he kissed Juzo’s face, his remaining hand, and his lips. Sakakura teared up and stared back at him, his eyes flaming with shock and terror.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Munakata, gazing profoundly at him.

Sakakura’s eyes darted about him, not settling anywhere.

“Juzo.”

He flinched, his hand sliding out of Munakata’s grasp.

“Do you really want to know? It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Did you think I would think less of you?” asked Munakata, peering with resolve. The bridge of Juzo’s nose wrinkled, his hand tightening into a fist.

“I didn’t come here to talk about this. I’ve been searching for you ever since I got out of the ruins. Nobody knew where you were, even Naegi.”

“Now that you’ve found me,” says Munakata quietly, “do you plan to move along?”

Closing his eyes, Juzo nodded. Munakata sighed, feeling a contradictory relief, and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’d given you so many orders and you’d always been obedient. What if now I order you to stay?”

Juzo scowled, great pain written all over his face.

“I’ve been thinking about you all this time,” murmured Munakata. “I won’t let go of you this easily now.”

It was not indecisiveness on Juzo’s part; rather a well too established through the previous years resistance Munakata now could understand. He agreed to stay for a day at first, soon seeming to find himself unable of keeping a cool facade, for Munakata was not letting him go quite literally.

They lay in the same bed, too narrow for the two but enough to get lost in each other and forget about this inconvenience. There were a lot of things to forget, and each kiss – be it a chaste or a deep one – was slowly restoring the damaged cells, bit by bit.

“I love you, Kyosuke” said Juzo on the third day. His naked shoulders hovered above Munakata, strong neck tense, eyes desperate. Breath taken away, Munakata tucked a bang of Juzo’s coarse hair behind his ear.

“I love you too,” he said with a faint smile.

“No, no, please.” Juzo squinted his eyes shut. “You don’t have to say it back.”

“I mean it,” said Munakata without a shadow of offence.

Everything in Juzo’s posture and facial expression was screaming confusion and hesitance. So much had been lost, and upon the remnants of shattered hopes and dreams, Munakata felt great numbness. But with Juzo in his arms, kissing him shyly, talking to him in whisper, Munakata had been contemplating  how, even on a burned area, a sprout could rise.

His heart had been on the mend. The healing process was dilatory but efficient, and a plainspoken confession from Sakakura made Munakata’s heart skip a beat – a warm feeling he thought he’d long since forgotten.

For having not enough emotional reciprocation to give, Munakata braced himself for action. After all, to him, action always spoke more than words.

“I want you to take me,” uttered Munakata, feeling blood rushing to his face – the wording appeared to sound too embarrassing in his hushed voice.

Juzo stared at him, dazed.

“You don’t mean... Shit.”

Heavy struggle lashed in Juzo’s gaze, he took a deep breath. He looked like he was about to speak but a breakaway took place and he sighed again.

“I could ask you to give yourself to me, too; if you don’t mind,” suggested Munakata beneath his breath. And even more embarrassed, he added: “I’m just not sure I can do it right at the first try, so I want to rely on you.”

No more panic was evident in Juzo’s gaze; his eyes, posture, his hold – everything seemed to swell with power and firmness. And yet, his hand and his lips were gentle on Munakata’s skin as if he was dealing with fragile cut glass.

“You can be rougher,” husked Munakata. “I’m not a delicate damsel.”

And Juzo obliged immediately, too used to orders and too eager to bring him pleasure.

If Munakata were to describe that earnest bracing in one word, he’d call it wild. Everything was it: Juzo’s harsh breathing on the back of his neck, his swearing through grit teeth, his rudderless hips rolling, the pump that worked fast in Munakata’s own stomach; and it ended as abruptly as any other rampant act of nature would end. Juzo groaned in frustration, gripping at Munakata’s shoulder for support – his stump started to slid off the mattress and Munakata briskly turned to catch him and pull on himself.

“I didn’t want to finish so fast,” grumbled Juzo. “Let me do something else for you.”

“It’s okay,” Munakata stroked Juzo’s hair away from his face and placed a small kiss upon his forehead. A distant throb still waltzed in his gut, but he was more determined to give than to receive at the point.

“Is it?”

“Yes. We can do it again, can’t we.”

Sure, he could definitely get used to it, although Juzo’s wildness was one of a beast; nothing like Chisa’s playfulness Munakata was more accustomed to. Chisa had always been gentle with him; however vehement, but her passion was a smoldering one, not exploding. For a moment caught in a solemn recollection, Munakata silently stroked Juzo’s hair, not quite noticing his breathing steadying into soft snoring.

It’s not that Munakata didn’t miss Chisa. Once she’d been everything to him, and at once losing her Munakata could not imagine he would feel peaceful again. And yet he was.

 

**~***~**

 

Vagabonding with Juzo was oddly soothing. They waded from village to village, helping folks to rearrange their lives after everything was crushed in the Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History. And doing odd jobs was refreshing. The former Ultimate Student Counsel President Munakata was finding a simple joy in carrying around construction materials and cooking broth. His leadership skills were no longer needed, but his humane aid was more than necessary.

And then, Juzo was by his side. They could sit in silence for hours, drinking coffee and peering to a fire, when Juzo would shift closer to Munakata and wrap his arms around his waist and pull him into his lap – a warm, cozy, homey feeling it was.

Juzo smelled of dust, coffee beans and fresh bakery. His touches, always soft and careful like he still was afraid to crash Munakata in his embrace, never failed to amuse him.

“Sakakura,” asked Munakata one quiet evening. They have eaten and were warming themselves at the fire, listening to the faint cry of a nightingale.

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you ask Future Foundation to give you a prosthetic hand?”

“Do I need it?” chuckled Juzo, humorless.

“Isn’t it more convenient with two hands?”

He fell silent for a while, stroking Munakata’s stomach underneath his own big coat.

“Naegi did offer me a prosthetic limb,” said Juzo quietly. “But I don’t want to forget what was lost.”

What was lost was an enormous piece of everyone’s lives. Every village bore dozens of broken families; a husband or a wife missing, kids killed off. The tragedy had cast a shadow over everyone, but they still had their hopes. To survive itself was a gift. Munakata closed his eye and saw Chisa’s brightly smiling face.

“Sometimes I miss her,” muttered Munakata. “It’s become a routine, like waking up from a nightmare each morning.”

He felt Juzo’s body stiffening against his but instantly relaxing.

“I miss her too,” he murmured. “But don’t you sulk. She’d be happy to know you’ve made it alive.”

In genuine warmth of Juzo’s tender and strong embrace, Munakata found himself smiling.

“You’re right. And actually, your having lost your hand gives me a great opportunity to finally beat you in a boxing match.”

“Huh?”

Agape, Juzo stared at Munakata rising swiftly on his feet and taking a fighting stance. Munakata tightened his fists and grinned at him, and Juzo grinned back.

Back then at Hope’s Peak they had conveyed a dozen sparring matches and Munakata had never won. Of course, he was realizing his poor chances against the Ultimate Boxer, even with a grand fighting skill he himself had. And yet now, even though having only one eye, he felt able to stand against Sakakura and finally win.

Juzo moved first, his fist brushing close to Munakata’s left arm. He dodged swiftly, throwing a punch that met air.

“Are you holding back, Sakakura? I can’t see on my right, but this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hit there.”

With a smirk, Juzo delivered another punch, and one more, and one more – all successfully dodged and blocked by Munakata. Springing on his feet, Munakata briskly threw a blow under Juzo’s jaw, but his fierce fist encountered Juzo’s soft palm.

“It’s a draw, I guess.” 

Smiling, Juzo squeezed his hand and Munakata unraveled his fist to lace their fingers together.

 

**~***~**

 

They’ve roamed together for nearly a year. Dozens of villages left behind, no set purposes – it feels like the essence of freedom to Munakata. Not knowing what a day will bring, he has learned to appreciate small moments of silence, small talks, simple meals, warm clothes that are not flashy. And most of all, Juzo’s warm body against his in narrow beds.

He has decided. The enjoyable freedom is one thing, but bonds are another.

Munakata strolls down a crowded market, chill morning air coming out in puffs as he exhales. Friendly marketers keep shrugging at his request, and he stops to take a deep breath.

These months have been nice and peaceful for him. He does not wish to settle down, though. Their journey itself is a detour that brings him what faintly reminds of happiness. Juzo is the one who sets a smile on his face. _It might be a stupid little thing, but it’s a right thing to do,_ Munakata thinks to himself. He has grown to love Juzo dearly; his soothing presence having become the essence that Munakata once had lost.

After a couple mornings of elaborated search, he finally gets his hands on the desired object. It looks very simple, just as he believes Juzo would like it.

“But if you don’t like it–”

A fierce, deep kiss full of gratitude and love. Munakata can’t help smallest tears in his eyes.

“I like it,” laughs Juzo, hugging him, and his laugher sounds a little painful, strained. “Although I wish I had the proper hand to wear it.”

“Oh...”

“But wait, I’ve got an idea.”

Rummaging in his pockets, Juzo looks immersed into the task. He hums, taking a long leather cord out, hangs the silver ring on it and ties the cord on his neck. Munakata chuckles.

“Looks good to me. It pales into insignificance on your chest, though.”

Quickly alternating from visible content to frown and then to deep red flush, Juzo clicks his tongue, but softens as Munakata wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple.

At dawn, they stroll up the hill to a desolate chapel, which Munakata has visited beforehand to check for presence of a priest. The old man peers at them without amusement and sighs.

“I’ve told you that I cannot wed two men in the face of God,” says the priest quietly. Munakata feels Juzo’s flinching by his side.

“But I’ve asked around,” states Munakata. “Villagers said you’ve done so recently, and plenty.”

“Indeed...” The priest closes his eyes and his features brighten. “Could I not refuse the people who still value the sacred bond of marriage after this grave tragedy.”

And a humble ceremony that doesn't take more than five minutes makes weird smiles appear on both Munakata and Juzo's faces. They stare at each other as though for the first time while the priest reads, and as he finishes, they timidly shake hands, looking a little lost.

The priest smiles.

“I’ve heard you’re old friends,” he says. “I hope your friendship and love will sustain through the hardships of this gruesome age.”     

“With hope, it will,” says Munakata and bows in gratitude to the priest.

They return to their temporary lodge, having snatched a rare to find bottle of whiskey at the market.

“I’d rather have vermouth or wine,” snorts Juzo. “Red Label, who would guess we’d drink crap like this?”

“Mix it with coffee and it’ll be fine,” suggests Munakata, removing a kettle from a portable furnace to a small wood table.

“What kind of weird cocktail is this?”

“The one that will make you warm.”

After a couple of scalding hot drinks, Munakata plops down the bed, pushing Juzo down and spreading his thighs with his knee. Kissing his mouth, his neck, Munakata slides Juzo’s shirt up, grasps his firm pectorals and caresses his hardening nipples. Juzo’s harsh breathing falters.

“This is kind of sudden,” he chuckles nervously. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing much, just want to please you on our wedding-night,” murmurs Munakata against Juzo’s hot skin. “Is it this weird?”

“It t-tickles,” grunts Juzo through clenched teeth and shivers as Munakata runs his tongue around his navel.

Munakata strips them both of their ragged clothes, throwing them to the floor. Juzo’s eyes dart away in embarrassment as Munakata’s gaze travels across his gorgeous body, lingering on his wide shoulders, tight pectorals, toned abs and taut thighs.

“I’ve never done it this way,” says Juzo, face burning red.

“I’ve figured.” Munakata seizes his shoulders and makes him slide onto his back. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Juzo glances to the side, and then, suddenly, right him in the eye.

“No,” he says resolutely. “Fuck the shit out of me. Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Munakata can’t help a laugh, but Juzo grasps his chin and stares desperately.

“I’ve been wanting this for years. Don’t you hold back now. I want this so bad; I want you, Kyosuke.”

And perhaps for the first time in long years, Munakata throws his dignity away completely, obliging an order with brutal vigor. He does not take his time, he does not slowly caress his partner to change the mood like he used to do in the past – it is not necessary; not with Juzo.

Devouring Juzo’s mouth with thorough kisses, Munakata wraps his arms strongly around his wide neck without a fear of strangling him in a fit of passion. His hips move only a couple of dragged fits before he goes rampant, pounding fiercely and quickly, watching Juzo’s jaw dropping and his eyes rolling into his head. Groans instantly become too hard to suppress; Juzo’s skin against his, the heat, the tightness; Munakata hammers deeper and faster, deafened by the filthy and so delicious sound of skin hitting skin. He feels Juzo’s rock-hard cock grinding against his abs, and Juzo’s voice fills his ears with obscenities that fuel him more and more, making his pace more frantic and sloppy in a fit of great desire.

Munakata feels Juzo’s hand gripping desperately onto his back; his face distorted and steamy, on the edge.

“I love you, Juzo,” Munakata mumbles hoarsely, puncturing each word with a thorough thrust, his body shaken in a massive wave of pleasure; he comes, feeling Juzo clinging to him more firmly with trembling hand and ejaculating against his stomach with a loud groan.

“I love you too,” mouths Juzo as Munakata collapses on top of him but instantly rises and snatches a rug to wipe off their bodies.

In a middle of a silent night, Munakata and Juzo lie together on a plain, uncomfortable bed. Munakata’s head is resting on Juzo’s shoulder as Juzo’s fingers idly play with his hair, solacing him. _What really matters in the ruined world?_ muses Munakata, not sure whether he has said it out loud or thought to himself.

“I dunno,” yawns Juzo. “Maybe it’s what’s left for us. It’s not like you can’t rebuild what was destroyed.”

“You’re right,” smiles Munakata drowsily and closes his eye. The warmth radiating softly from Juzo’s body pressed to his lulls him into quiet, dreamless sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are very much appreciated :)


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